Family Motto: Spero meliora. (Loosely translated as, "I hope for better things")
And if you don't like bad language, then bugger off.
Beware. Cookies maybe lurking on this site.
I usually post several times a day about differing subjects. Do scroll down

Google analytics

Saturday, 13 November 2010

It makes me wonder how duped our political class are when it comes to renewable energy. They keep banging on that it is needed to sustain our way of life, rather than that nasty CO2 producing conventional power station.

However on Thursday and Friday there was oodles of wind. Enough to power The large Hadron collider barely my lighting if I had a commercially bought, private property device.

But to cut to the chase. Even supposing I had a turbine that could produce three times my consumption, how would I store the surplus? Well I could invest in a transformer and go and get dozens of batteries from Halfords, (Halfords, if you’re reading this, the free plug here, is worth a few quid for my help with your sales) or I could build a heat sink in the garden and recover the energy by a heat pump system.

The trouble with this strategy is, it is cost prohibitive to the lay person.

And of course, it will be to the national projects as well.

It’s different in places such as Norway, where they can use the energy produced to pump water up to high level reservoir to be used to generate hydro-electric power when the wind ceases to blow.

So if we go down the road of having 20% of our energy from renewables in the future. Where is 20% of the energy tonight going to come from?

The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it. The next day, the kids came back and, one by one, began to tell their stories.

There were all the regular types of stuff: spilled milk and pennies saved. But then the teacher realized, much to her dismay, that only Janie was left.

“Janie, do you have a story to share?'

''Yes ma'am. My daddy told me a story about my Mom. She was a Marine pilot in Desert Storm, and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory, and all she had was a flask of whiskey, a pistol, and a survival knife. She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break, and then her parachute landed her right in the middle of 20 Iraqi troops. She shot 15 of them with the pistol, until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands. ''Good Heavens,' said the horrified teacher. 'What did your Daddy tell you was the moral to this horrible story?